


make me feel

by gracesfonda



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: F/F, Season/Series 04, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 01:17:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17909267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracesfonda/pseuds/gracesfonda
Summary: Grace's knee replacement is tomorrow, and Frankie offers her anything to help get her to get through the night





	make me feel

**Author's Note:**

> soooo it's been a minute since anyone has posted any smut so i wrote this little piece at work today cuz i am a horny bitch. hope y'all enjoy :)

Long after the sun had set, a more exhausted than usual Frankie had arrived back at her ex-husband and his new husband's house in search of Grace. She mentally kicked herself for suggesting they stay the night here, she knew Grace was even more pissed about it than she was. If she was sacrificing a good night's sleep, she’d rather it be to stay beside Grace on their own sofa, in their own house. But, she wanted Grace to be safe, and comfortable and their sofa was good for naps, not slumbers.

 

Frankie quietly locked the front door behind her as she went off in search of Grace, wanting to comfort her, knowing she was going to need it. Her surgery was early tomorrow morning, she couldn’t drink, couldn’t take any pain pills. It was Grace’s personal hell, minus children. She wandered around the house, quietly and finally found her in the guest bedroom, laying on her side, tucked under the covers, sleeping. Frankie gently closed the creaky door behind her and went off in search of her own sleeping arrangements for the night, slightly disappointed it wasn’t next to Grace. 

 

Frankie’s sprawled out on the somewhat surprisingly comfortable couch occupying her ex-husband's new husband’s study when her phone vibrates and dings loudly from somewhere beneath her on the cushion. She rolls around, tries to find it without turning the light on. She shakes the blanket and her phone crashes against the hardwood floor.  _ Fuck.  _ She instinctively looks around her before she remembers she’s alone. She sends a quick prayer to the goddess that she didn’t wake anyone, her room is right next to Robert and Sol’s, and the Sleeping Beauty is a light sleeper. 

 

Once the phone is in her hand, she quickly discovers it’s a text from Grace, Sleeping Beauty isn’t sleeping after all. Her tired eyes glance over it.

 

_ I can’t sleep. Are you awake? _

 

Ding. Another text comes through. Ding. Another.  _ Double fuck.  _ She quickly switches her phone to vibrate before it wakes all of San Diego. 

 

_ I heard you open the door. _

 

_ And heard you take my picture. _

 

Frankie’s aching fingers type back a reply as quickly as they can while she wonders if that’s all she heard.

 

_ yah, i was gonna come in & talk but u looked like u were sleeping _

 

Send. She watches the little bubbles pop up on the screen for a moment, then they’re gone. Replaced with a text.

 

_ Come talk now? _

 

The smile that's spread across Frankie’s lips is the one she thinks is reserved only for Grace. She sets her phone in the pocket of her robe and slowly opens the insanely loud creaky door.  _ Triple fuck! _

 

In the kitchen with only the light from the moon to guide her, Frankie walks right into the counter. “Fuck me!” She whisper yells and she hears a beautiful chuckle erupt from behind the closed door. Grace was laughing at her. At least Robert and Sol’s room was tucked away down the opposite hallway, across the house. Maybe she hadn’t wakened them. 

 

Frankie doesn’t knock, she never does no matter how many times Grace has yelled at her for it. She knows one day she’ll walk in on something more than Grace’s naked figure hidden under murky bubble bath water, hell, maybe that’s why she does it. Hell, maybe that's why Grace doesn’t ever lock her doors. Maybe, they’re both searching for the same thing.

 

“I heard you make your way throughout this whole house,” Grace informs her as soon as she’s closed the door behind her. “Twice.”

 

“Grace, you know I don’t see well in the dark!” Frankie whines. She makes her way across the bedroom, stops beside the bed. She doesn’t want to just jump in, she wants permission. 

 

Grace looks over at her, she rolls her eyes. “Are you just going to stand there?” Frankie sits.

 

“Somebody’s cranky,” Frankie teases as she reaches out to touch Grace, offer her comfort, offer her anything.  _ Anything she needs, I’ll fucking do it. Anything she fucking wants. _

 

Frankie is snapped out of her thoughts by rough words cutting the air. “Somebody needs to shut the fuck up.” Frankie knows Grace doesn’t mean it, knows she’s in pain, knows she doesn’t mean to lash out, even if her words hit Frankie like a slap in the face.

 

Frankie stands up almost as fast as she sat down, she looks around the room to see if there’s anything that might help offer Grace some relief. 

 

“Don’t go, Frankie,” Grace begs, even though leaving was the furthest thing from Frankie’s mind. “I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean it. I’m just so frustrated,” Grace pauses. “In more ways than one.” Grace’s face softens as she speaks though she doesn’t look Frankie in the eyes. She holds her arm out to Frankie, waits for her to take her hand.

 

Frankie knows frustrated, Grace is probably the only person in the world who understands it more than her. She swallows hard and reaches out to take the outstretched hand. Grace’s skin is hot against hers. It burns where they touch. “What do you mean?” She chokes the words out, afraid of where this will go and what it will do to her. 

 

Grace looks over at Frankie. “I haven’t been sleeping good, because it hurts, my knee. And, now I can’t sleep because I can’t drink or take anything.” Grace looks away, her cheeks burn read before she begins talking again. “And, I didn’t think to bring my vibrator. At least that could’ve kept me busy if it couldn’t make me sleep.”

Frankie feels the room spin as soon as Grace brought up her vibrator. Her tongue is heavy in her mouth, heavy against the back of her teeth as she imagines Grace with the purple probe between her thighs, coming as silently as she could over and over again just to get some relief. 

 

This shouldn’t affect Frankie this way, they’ve talked about masturbation many times over the last few years. Hell, they made a profitable business out of the subject. Yet, Frankie aches, feels herself squirm on the mattress, feels her blood run hot in her veins. She coughs to cover it up. 

 

“If you can’t sleep, we could have sex?” Frankie means it to sound like a joke, she’d even meant to laugh but it comes out of her mouth breathlessly and needy. She knows there are things she should keep in her head, knows it would save her a lot of time getting yelled at by Grace, but she can’t stop herself. Sex with Grace is something that’s never far from her mind, even if she wishes it wasn’t.

 

Her words shock herself, but not as much as the strangled noise that falls out of Grace’s gaping mouth does. Her hand flies to her lips tightly covers them.  _ Maybe she’s so embarrassed she’s trying to suffocate herself?  _ Frankie wonders when Grace’s hand hadn’t moved after a few longs seconds.  _ I should stop her.  _

 

“Frankie, I’m not in the mood,” Grace warns, her voice is shaky. Frankie can’t help but notice her breathing has changed and she’s turned at least four shades redder than she had been moments before talking about her vibrator. 

 

“Not in the mood for my shit or for sex? Because you basically just told me you wanted to get fucked,”  _ Damn, I really don’t know when the fuck to quit. _

 

Grace groans and slumps her body against the pillows behind her. “Please, don’t joke about this.” Her voice is quiet but firm. She squeezes the sheet in her right hand.

 

“I’m not,” Frankie mutters before she can stop herself before she can think of all the reasons why this is not a good idea before she can get her grip on reality again. Grace’s head snaps toward her painfully fast. “I know I talk a big game, but if it’s something you want, I’d fucking do it.” Grace groans. “Have you not been fucking yourself?” 

 

“It’s a little hard with my knee hurting so much, uh-” Grace cuts herself off. She chuckles, embarrassed, even though she’s revealed nothing. 

 

“What?” Frankie asks she puts her hand on top of Graces, silently lets her know its okay, whatever she was going to say, it’s okay.

 

“Uh, I have this habit of digging my heels into my mattress and I can’t really do that with my knee like this. So, I haven’t been getting off much lately,” Grace admits. She keeps her head straight forward, staring at the ceiling. Frankie knows this is getting messier and messier. Friends don’t offer this to each other, and they surely don’t actually consider it if it’s proposed.  _ Get ahold of yourself.  _

 

“Anything you want, I’ll do it,” Frankie promises from across the mattress, from safe territory. She reaches out to touch Grace but stops short.  _ Opposite! You did the opposite. Messy.  _

 

The air in the room is almost nonexistent as she waits for Grace to do something. Her lungs burn as Frankie watches as Grace’s eyes rake down her excruciatingly slowly, she watches them settle on her lips. Grace extends her hand towards Frankie, grabs her by the fabric of her hip and pulls her toward the center of the mattress with force Frankie didn’t know she possessed. 

 

“Try to stay quiet, understand?” Frankie says as she settles on the bed. Her hand is on Grace’s hip. One flick of her wrist and everything changes between them even though they’ve been teetering on this for months now, maybe more. Every joke and suggestive comment suddenly isn’t funny anymore. Grace nods from beside her, in permission and understanding. Frankie forgets her doubts as she closes her hand around the waistband of Grace’s pajamas and begins to lower them down her smooth legs. 

 

“Frankie, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Grace whispers, her eyes pressed tightly shut, and Frankie almost laughs out loud. 

 

“There’s nothing I want more.” As soon as the words leave Frankie’s mouth, she knows they’re true. She wants this, she wants Grace. She hears Grace’s bottoms hit the floor, she holds in the moan in her throat. Frankie fights the urge to take in the skin she’s just uncovered, fights to devour her right there.  _ Go slow. _

 

Frankie’s hand connects with Grace’s hip again, but this time it’s bare. The air in her lungs burns, her whole body is alive.  _ Does it feel like this for her? _

 

“Yes,” Grace moans quietly and Frankie realizes she said her thoughts out loud. 

 

“How do you want it?” Frankie husks and in the dark, she can see Grace’s bottom lip between her teeth. 

 

“Rough, Frankie. I want it rough,” Grace whispers. And, the moan Frankie was holding in, wasn’t held in anymore. It cut through the silence like a knife. She looks down quickly, sees smooth skin and freckles. 

 

“Fuck.” Frankie sits up, crawls to the edge of the bed. She carefully spreads Grace’s legs. “Is this okay? Does it hurt?” 

 

“Yes, but not because of you. Make me forget about it,” Grace begs. Frankie silently thanks all of the God’s for this large bed in their ex-husbands' house. She opens her eyes, fully takes in the beauty that is Grace Hanson. Frankie takes the arch of Grace’s foot in her mouth, she kisses gently before slowly moving up to her ankle, up her calf. She pays extra attention to her bad knee, kisses every inch of skin her lips will reach. 

 

Grace is patient everywhere Frankie has seen her, except in bed. The small noises escaping her lips egg Frankie on, send her higher. She lets her tongue trail up Grace’s thigh, she stops painfully close to where they both want her to be. She feels the heat Grace is radiating, bites down gently before turning her attention to the other knee and working her way up. 

 

“Frankie,” Grace pants from below her. Frankie lays her head on Grace’s thigh, looks her in the eye as she waits. “I’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly. Please.” Grace sits up slightly, her eyes are dark, fully dilated.  

 

Her boldness surprises Frankie, she presses her thighs together. 

 

“Lay back and let me take care of you,” Frankie insists, as she presses her lips back to Grace’s inner thigh. She feels a hand slipping down her shirt, searching for skin. “No, Grace,” Frankie instructs as she pushes Grace lightly back into the pillows. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.” 

 

Frankie watches as she pouts, watches as she stares up at the ceiling. Frankie slips a finger in her mouth, settles back between Grace’s parted thighs. Frankie hears the sharp intake of breath as her lips finally close around Grace’s clit. She roughly flicks her tongue and gently slides a finger inside Grace. Frankie is above and inside, but she feels Grace all around her. 

 

“Oh my god, do that again,” Grace begs as soon as Frankie separates herself from Grace’s clit. She gently blows hot air against her wet skin. Grace squirms on the mattress, she pulls the sheet from the corners of the bed. 

 

“I didn't know you were so sensitive,” Frankie whispers. She curls her fingers inside Grace, takes in the feel of being inside another woman. Frankie glances up, sees Grace’s hand up her shirt. “You feel so good, and you taste good.” Frankie moans without meaning to. “Take off your shirt, Grace.” 

 

“What?” Grace asks, she’s distracted. Frankie stops her movements.

 

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.” Frankie lifts her unoccupied hand and begins helping Grace with the buttons when they reach the top, Grace sits up and shrugs it off her shoulders. 

 

Frankie takes in the sight of Grace from between her thighs. “You’re so beautiful all spread out like this, just for me,” she whispers before roughly connecting her lips back on Grace’s swollen clit.

 

“Oh-I need you. Please, don’t fucking stop!” Grace begs, one hand is pulling Frankie’s thick hair while the other is on her breast. Frankie flicks her tongue with purpose and hums against Grace. “Frankie, you’re gonna make me come!” Grace’s back arches off the mattress as her vision goes blurry. 

 

Frankie curls her fingers as she feels Grace’s orgasm against her tongue. White hot arousal courses through her body reminds her she hasn’t gotten off in well over a week. She presses her thighs together as she brings Grace down from her release.

 

“That was, wow, Grace. That looked like fucking amazing,” Frankie beams as she comes to rest beside Grace. Sweat is present on Grace’s skin and she looks like a goddess. 

 

“I, ugh-I’ve never really had that happen. Usually, I have to fake it with another person,” Grace admits, as she turns onto her side facing Frankie.

 

“Oh, honey.” Frankie runs her hand down Grace’s arm gently.  _ Is this too intimate?  _ Grace moans into the touch.  _ Fuck it.  _

 

“Frankie, do you think we could do that again sometime?” Grace asks the collar of Frankie’s shirt is between Grace’s skinny fingers. She’s tugging, pulling her closer. So close she can feel Frankie’s breath on her. Grace is naked but she’s never felt more comfortable. 

 

_ Thank god this is something she wants too.  _ Frankie lifts her shirt over her head before she closes the distance between them. Her lips connect with Grace’s for the first time. Her heart hammers in her chest, it echoes throughout her entire body. She feels her heartbeat everywhere. When she pulls away, Grace is smiling sleepily. “Yes.” 

 

Frankie feels like there is so much to say, she knows there’s so much to process about what just happened between them, yet she can only bring herself to whisper that one simple word as she feels Grace’s lips brush against her collarbone and her hand on the soft skin of her stomach slowly trailing down, en route to give back some of what Frankie just gave her. 


End file.
